When a man makes a point of telling you, “I am the most intelligent man/person you’ll ever meet,” he may or may not be right about his intelligence; but the fact that he felt compelled to point it out rather than simply being (show,  not tell) says volumes more about his character than his self-proclaimed brilliance.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

This observation may seem a tad sexist, but it’s based on the fact that in 44 years I’ve yet to hear a woman say this, while I’ve met my share of men who have.

Oh my gosh, you have got to check out this seventy-five year old British pensioner who won the Spanish equivalent of Britain/America’s Got Talent. Meet Paddy Jones!

I really hope she doesn’t put a hip out or something. How amazing was she?

No, I’m not talking about war and soldiers–I’m talking about teenagers and sex.

I may be wrong–though it seems the CDC is leaning towards agreeing with me–but given my own experiences as a teen (and the fact that I have really vivid memories of many of those… *cough*) it never has made sense to me to say, “just don’t do it and you’ll be fine” and then actually expect teens to “not do it”.

Ostrich and sand kind of thing, I’ve always thought.

And a bit like saying to a young kid, “Don’t talk to strangers!” and then being horrified that the overwhelming majority of abuse comes from people close to the kids.

Teach them all they need to know, and then let them make their own choices–they’ll make them anyway, isn’t it much better that they be informed ones?

Arm your kids with knowledge.

Do you ever feel the urge to say, to a loved one (or a friend, or well meaning relative, acquaintance, etc.), “I don’t know where you get your information, but it doesn’t apply to my reality”?

I confess I’ve been having to exercise restrain not to do that myself, just now.

You Are Blooming Flowers

You are an optimistic person by nature. In even the darkest times, you are hopeful about the future. You feel truly blessed in life and can sometimes be overwhelmed with emotions. You have an artist’s eye. You are always looking for beauty in the mundane. You have a good sense of aesthetics, especially when it comes to shapes and color.

(thank you to the BookLoversMessageBoard for the quiz)

(even though she blames Kwana)

Now you too can go get your hero on!

I give you permission to file this post under ‘Far Too Much Information Luvvie!’

Sooo, enquiring minds want to know if this request by your lover during the throes of sex ever works?

It just seems to me that every hero in every book seems to use this line, and as if by magic, the heroine orgasms instantly.

I can tell you that it’s never worked for me. I orgasm when I’m good and ready, and not before.

Just sayin’.

So, the country came to a stop today just because of a little snow. Ok, maybe not so little, but still, how can a country like England not know how to deal with the white stuff? I wouldn’t mind, but we knew it was coming three days ago!

Anyhow, 1 in 5 people stayed off work today, costing employers over £1bn.

Personally, I found it was the perfect time to visit the post office, and do my big food shop. I was able to park across two car parking spaces, because the supermarket was so quiet. I was paranoid about women who can’t drive in the snow hitting my car, whilst attempting to park, which is why I selfishly used two parking spaces.

Yeah, yeah, I’m probably being a tad sexist, but having watched women with no spatial awareness whatsoever, have crunches in supermarket car parks for a number of years now, I thought it was better to be safe than sorry.

My final journey happened at 11pm tonight, when I drove over to my brother’s house to make sure everything was ok. They’re on hols at the mo, so I’m charged with looking after their property.

The snow was falling even heavier tonight, and I nearly got stuck up the hill, but I just about made it.

Anyhoo, I’m off to watch Lipstick Jungle now, after my big snow day.

G’night!

So, my lil’ sister’s been in the States for the past two months. She went to a Philadelphia camp, to work as a camp counsellor for the summer.

She hated it.

She compared the camp to a cult, actually. Apparently, nobody was allowed to voice a negative opinion, and those who did, were frowned upon. It was all a bit too happy-clappy for her (That’s my girl), but at least she met some like-minded people. (The Australians and the other Brits there, I believe. *g*)

She also hated the camp director, and couldn’t understand why such a person would want to work with kids, when he seemed to despise them. Apparently he was a bit power mad, another thing that grated on my lil sister’s nerves.

She’d only been there two weeks, when she started comparing it to a prison.

Anyway, she left the camp two weeks ago, (not prematurely or anything, so she managed to stick it out), and decided to go to New York, then Canada, then New York again, then Miami, before finally heading back to Heathrow yesterday.

I’m so glad she’s back, safe and sound.

Now, I’m gonna kill her for the £123 bill that she rang up on the mobile phone (that we’re paying for, mind), in July.

When the bad guy is made to pay in the end? I really do. There’s nothing more satisfying in a book, than when the good guy, is allowed to exact his revenge on the bad guy.

None of this I’m-the-good-guy-so-I-can’t-kill-him crap, shooting the bastard between the eyes, works for me every time.

Just saying.